


Disquietude

by DktrAgonizer



Category: The Darkness (Games)
Genre: M/M, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4887235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DktrAgonizer/pseuds/DktrAgonizer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no real attraction between them, and they both know that. But maybe they're both lonely and desperate enough that that doesn't matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disquietude

**Author's Note:**

> It isn't necessary to read first, but this is a sort of sequel to my other fic, But I Want To.

Sometimes he wakes up in a cold sweat, shaking and breathing shallowly, a scream caught in his throat. The nightmares never stick with him long in wakefulness; the images and words melt away the moment his eyes open, but the feeling of dread and wrongness persist. Sometimes he's left with snatches of something he'd rather forget. It's not every night, no - more like a couple of times a week. It's always worse if he's spent more time around Jackie, or around those relics he brings back, than normal.

There's a faint echoing laughter in his head when he wakes up this time. Johnny jolts straight up in bed, one hand pressed to his forehead, the other twisting the sheets that lay tangled with his legs. His skin's crawling and there's a pressure just behind his eyebrows. He's had a lot of headaches recently. With that and the nightmares, sleep's been hard enough to come by. As he gets his breathing under control, he glances at the clock sitting on his bedside table and grimaces. 1:12am. Figures.

On the other side of the bed, Dolfo's sound asleep. He hasn't gotten used to sharing the room - let alone the bed - with another man, but Jackie's aunt Sarah has the only other room and Dolfo isn't exactly allowed to leave the mansion.

It could be always be worse, he muses. For one, he’s got a roof over his head and there’s food and air conditioning. And Dolfo, well, he may be eccentric but he’s not a bad person to room with. Besides, it’s not like the bed’s used for anything other than just sleeping. They’ve kissed a few times, sure, but there’s no desire between either of them to take it any further. And they’re both fine with that.

He's not going to get any more sleep tonight. With a heavy sigh, Johnny disentangles himself from the sheets and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He'll just get up and walk around a bit, maybe grab some fresh air. Then maybe he'll sit himself in the library for a while and pore over whatever he hasn't already read until the sun comes out and everybody else wakes up and the boys start to come back to the mansion.

He pauses only to pull a pair of pants on before leaving the room. His fingers shake ever-so-slightly as he pulls the zipper up and buttons it. He doesn't bother with the belt, opting to let the jeans sag low on his hips because, really, who would be up to care? 

The mansion's dark and quiet, the only light provided by the moon filtering through the windows. The carpet feels good against his bare feet as he moves down the hall. The tiles, too, feel good when he makes his way to the balcony. They're smooth and cool, a nice contrast to the warmth of the air. It had been a hot day and the night didn't help it cool off much. There is, however, a merciful breeze. Johnny leans against the railing, closes his eyes, and inhales slowly.

After a while, he feels himself relax. His nerves stop thrumming and he feels the tremors in his hands cease. He can't even remember anything about his nightmare - not to say he's eager to get back to bed any time soon. Being back here again isn’t exactly doing him many favors. Sure, he’s inside practically all day and he doesn’t have to fight cats for scraps from garbage bins, but it’s not like he was given a choice. They’d crammed him into a car, taken him here, and tied him to a chair for a few hours until Jackie got back to talk with him.

He doesn’t want to be around Jackie anymore, because he’s scared of the thing inside him. To him, the Darkness had been a drug, and it’s already ruined his whole damn life. There’s no uphill from here, only down. Johnny rakes a hand through his thinning hair, wondering if he can get away with running off in the middle of the night again. (But no, he can’t, they’ll just find him again and they’ll be even _less_ nice than they have been, and Jackie might -)

He stays out on the balcony for a little while longer, breathing in the warm night air until he feels his nerves settle again. Time to head inside, he thinks as he pushes away from the railing. He's just going to swing by his room again to nab that half-finished bottle of whiskey he's got sitting on the desk before he heads down to the library.

The moment he steps back inside, Johnny hears a sound that gives him pause, right by the master bedroom. Jackie's room. He glances around, double-checking there's nothing out on the upper floor with him. Nobody downstairs, either. He hears the sound again and steps closer to the door to press his ear against it. And there - a low moaning, one completely familiar. Johnny takes a step back, his face heating up with the embarrassment of catching the sounds of his boss fucking somebody.

He's about to take another step back, to continue to his own room, but he doesn't. Jackie hadn't brought home a girl last night, had he? No, he was certain he hadn't. Maybe - the thought crosses his mind that Jackie had pulled in one of the other guys for the night and he feels his face heat up even more. But no, he realizes as he listens closer, that can't be. He can only hear one voice coming from the other side of the door. Jackie's.

Oh. So his boss is in there, touching himself, after 1 in the goddamn morning. Alright, cool, he can't say he blames the guy. Might be a good way to pass the time if he can't sleep, either. (Johnny often wonders how he gets any sleep at all, with that - that _thing_ inside of him. The secondhand exposure is bad enough, but to play its _host_...)

Another moan, this one louder than the rest, and the heat starts pooling in Johnny's groin instead of his face. Well. He knows he should just walk away, go back to what he'd initially planned to do, but he can't make himself move. The sounds of needy pleasure coming from the room are rooting him to the spot. "Fuck," he whispers, resigned to this. It's not so much that he's attracted to his boss - he's not, not _really_ \- but it's been so long since he's had any sort of release. 

He leans against the wall, head jutted forward just a bit to keep his ear on the door, and reaches to undo his zipper.

There's a sudden pain in his head and he cries out, one hand flying up to massage his temple. There's laughter, dark and quiet, building from the back of his mind to the very front until it's the only thing he can focus on. His knees buckle, but he leans hard against the door before he falls to the ground.

Then the door opens and he would have tumbled into the room had there not been somebody to catch him. "Johnny," a voice says, and oh god it's Jackie of _course_ it's Jackie ohhh god he's dead he’s dead he’s _dead_ -

"The hell are you doing out here?" Jackie asks, and the hands on Johnny's shoulders are warm and firm and also the only damn thing holding him up right now.

Johnny blinks as the laughter ebbs, allowing his thoughts some room to resurface. "Uh", however, is the only thing he can think of to reply. His eyes dart down, automatically, and he realizes with some deal of embarrassment that Jackie's not wearing anything.

"Sorry," he gets out eventually. "Sorry, I-I-I was jjjust - I was just WALKING a-and I, uh, I hhheard -"

Jackie gives him a small, amused smile and ohhh god he wants nothing more than to just sink into the floor and disappear and _oh god he is going to get fired for this._

"Relax," Jackie says, and the grips on his shoulders loosen. "You couldn't sleep?" Jackie's hands slip down to rest on Johnny's biceps and he has to swallow back the nervous pit in his throat. 

"Nightmares," he replies, and he swears the voice laughing in his head sounds more amused than before. It’s there, really there, he thinks, because a hallucination wouldn’t have brought on that pain, would it? "I, uh. They happen, freeequently, I-I couldn't -"

"Would you like to come in?" Jackie offers, and Johnny can hear the damn smirk in his voice. He can't reply with anything but a stammer and Jackie stares at him until he gives up and nods. Jackie pulls him in by the shoulder, moving one hand to shut the door behind them.

Johnny finds himself steered to the bed. It's surprisingly small, but DAMN is it comfortable. He's never been in here before, though he's caught glances of it. The decorative waterfall there is gorgeous and the gentle sound of moving water is enough to cover the fading laughter in his brain.

Across from the bed and right in front of the waterfall is a small table holding a candle, rose, jewelry box, and a picture. He's able to catch one glimpse of Jenny's face before Jackie walks over and carefully sets the frame down.

Johnny coughs, averting his eyes as Jackie makes his way back over to the bed. He sits down on the edge right beside him, settling one hand on a leg. He can't help but follow the movement now, and his face reddens at the sight of the slick wetness covering Jackie's thighs. 

"Um," he manages to get out before his throat closes on him. He looks away again, choosing to focus on the waterfall. 

“You need something to help you sleep easier?” Jackie asks. “Or would you rather something to keep you awake?”

“I’d, I’d rather not go back to sleep.” He gets the words out after a moment, but it’s hard, and oh god _he’s_ hard and he _knows_ Jackie can see the obvious bulge in his pants, but Jackie’s not _saying_ anything and he’s not sure if that’s worse or -

Jackie shifts, pulling one knee up on the bed so that his whole body is facing Johnny. His whole naked body, shameless as you please. “Maybe you need some good company. Sorry about rooming you up with Dolfo, but you know how the crazy fuck gets when he’s out there on his own.”

"No, no, i-i-it's fine, it's okay," Johnny stammers, voice high and quick and god he wants to punch himself in the mouth when he speaks sometimes and he’s not sure how anybody else avoids punching him, either. "It's, you know, a HELL of a-a step up frommm living under a _bridge._ "

Jackie raises an eyebrow at that. "I can imagine. At least you smell better now than when they first brought you in. You don't look better, though. And I don’t mean just ‘cause you spent a while living under a bridge."

He has to gulp back another pit of shame. "Ah... Kiiiind of a, a really hard thing t-to recover from?"

"Johnny." Jackie's got a strange sort of look in his eye, one he can't quite place. "How bad for you is this? Being here, around me."

Another involuntary dart to Jackie's slick thighs and Johnny coughs, but he knows that's not what he was getting at. "I-" he starts, before he chokes and he has to wrestle with his damn tongue. Jackie waits patiently while he gets himself mildly under control. "Shit, Jackie," he says finally. "It's, it's fucking _awful._ Th-the, being around you? What you have IN you? I-i-it MESSES with me. The, the thhhe the Darkness is lllike a goddamn DRUG, I told you that, right? Y-you get ONE little taste and it stays, it _lingers_ , a-a-and yyyou, you just want _more_."

The more he talks, the higher his pitch and the faster his voice. Jackie's watching him with that same weird expression and Johnny feels his stomach clench. 

"I was, I was in COLLEGE, man, I had a goddamn _life_. A-a-and then I find you guys and you, yyyou hire me and then I, I help you and thhhe, it gets in my fffucking _head_ and my whole life's in a damn shambles nnnow and I can’t -"

"Johnny," Jackie says, quietly, a note of concern in his voice, but Johnny keeps going because he can't make himself stop. 

"I dropped out of school b-b-because I can't, I couldn't fffucking THINK and I couldn't focus and I can't hhhold a job ssso I've spent the last, the last few fucking mmmonths under a _bridge_ and do you _know_ what I've, I've had to DO just to fffucking SURVIVE?"

He's breathing fast, he's breathing way too fast because he can't catch his breath and his head feels light and somewhat dizzy and -

There's hands on his shoulders and a voice in his ear and it takes him a moment to remember Jackie's there, right fucking _there_ , and fuck he's totally going to get fired for this, they’re going to throw him out right into the streets, he's so fucking pathetic, he can't -

"Hey, hey, relax. Relax, it's okay." Jackie's voice finally reaches him and it's enough to help him finally catch a breath. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and takes one deep breath. He holds it for two, three seconds, then lets it back out again in one shaky go. "I'm sorry," he says, eyes still shut tight.

A hand touches his face and he flinches, and it's taking all he can to not get up and bolt for the door. Jackie's fingers are light against his chin. "Look at me," he says, and Johnny obliges because, hell, Jackie's his BOSS, he can't exactly refuse. 

"I'm sorry, Johnny," Jackie says, and Johnny thinks he can see a trace of guilt on his face. "Truly, I am. But I needed you here then, and I need you here again now. At least until this whole thing with those Brotherhood pricks is over."

There's a sinking feeling in his gut. Not that he'd expected to be let go, but he'd almost wanted - except, he couldn't afford to go back out there, jobless, with not much more than the clothes on his back. He has enough money to keep him fed for a month, maybe, but that’s it. He wouldn't last.

Jackie drops his hand to Johnny's shoulder. After a moment, he brings his other hand up and he starts to smooth over the skin of Johnny's arms. The touch is unexpectedly light and gentle. He pauses to trace over every mark on them. The wounds from one year ago healed well enough, but the scars are prominent - and Johnny doubts they'll ever fade. 

It's hard not to remember that night. He still can’t believe it happened, sometimes. You spend your months helping a guy carrying the world’s first evil learn how it works and you _think_ you’d know better than to mess with it when you get a little horny.

Of course, smart as he generally is about things, he has his moments. Asking to let the Darkness fuck him wasn’t really one of his better choices, but _god_ he’d wanted nothing more that day - even if he regretted it for months afterwards. Jackie had been reluctant, but he’d let it happen. He even tried to stop it early, but Johnny told him not to.

All of this is his own damn fault. His arms, the near-permanent voices in his head, the way he _knows_ his mind’s been shattered beyond repair. Being around Jackie and the relics, letting himself get addicted to the dark essence, had been bad enough. But then he...

Sometimes, when he's lying there in the dark, he swears he can feel the Darkness snaking its way around his torso. Sometimes he can taste it in his mouth, bitter and and disgusting but oh-so-sweet. It’s in his head these days, it’s always in his damn head, and he’s never sure if it’s _really_ there or if he’s imagining it all. Back when he was on his own, he could tell. He _knew._ But now that he’s back, the lines between reality and what his own damn head makes up are more blurred and god is it stressful. He thinks he can see the otherworldly yellow glow in Jackie's eyes now, but then he blinks and it's gone.

"I knew it wasn't a good idea," Jackie says, staring hard at one half circle of thin, toothy bite scars. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it would scar like this."

He tries to give a nonchalant shrug, but he ends up just sinking his neck into his shoulders instead. "I wanted it, it. It was my idea, it's -" Fine? He can't say that, he can't bring himself to. So he doesn't say anything at all. 

Fuck. He hadn't wanted to go through this at all. Johnny takes another big breath and lets it out slowly this time. He wants to leave, to even forgo the library and curl back up in bed and just hope the nightmares stay away. But Jackie's hands are on his arms and they're warm, and he looks so, so...

He moves in almost without realizing it. He presses his face against Jackie's shoulder and his arms raise to circle his waist. Jackie leaves one hand on an arm and the other moves to rest on his back. 

"I don't want to be here," Johnny whispers.

"I know." Jackie's touch on his back is light, like everything else, and Johnny wonders if he'd rather not be doing this at all. He’s too damn gentle, and it feels so wrong. This isn’t the Jackie Estacado he knows, all angry determination and a singular focus to make things right for him and his. Johnny’s not his, not part of the family, and he’s fine with that. He’s nothing more than a mentor, kidnapped or not. He shouldn’t _care._

His eyes are burning and his throat's closed up again, but he does the best he can to keep from sobbing because nobody wants to hear it, nobody should have to deal with it. Jackie Estacado certainly shouldn't have to. Johnny pulls his face back after a moment, determined to excuse himself and go so he can finally deal with the embarrassing heat pooling in his groin. 

Before he can say anything, the hand on his arm drops to move back to his chin. Jackie’s looking right at him and god, god all he wants to do is stare right back but he can’t. His eyes flick to one side then the other, his subconscious taking note of how far away the door is from where he’s sitting.

“Listen to me,” Jackie says, and it takes a great deal of effort for Johnny to meet his gaze again. He can feel his eyes wavering, threatening to look anywhere but at Jackie’s face, but the look on it is so intense that this time, he’s afraid to stop meeting it.

“Listen,” he says he again. “I swear, after all of this is over and those assholes are dead, you’re free to go. I won’t bother you again.”

Johnny runs a nervous tongue over his lips. “That’s, that’s nice, bbbut you said that _last_ time ssso I’m sorry if -”

“Last time,” Jackie interrupts, “you ran away in the middle of the night.”

Johnny clears his throat and his eyes flick, just for a moment, down to his own arms. Jackie follows the movement of his eyes and lets out a sigh. “I, uh.” Johnny clears his throat again before continuing. “I wasn’t rrreally in the. Best. ...I-I-I couldn’t stay.”

There’s a few seconds of silence, then Jackie says, “I know. I’m sorry.”

As if on instinct, Johnny leans in. Jackie stares at him for a moment and an odd look - sadness? guilt? he’s not sure - passes briefly over his face. Jackie presses his mouth against his and god, it shouldn't feel as right as it does. There's no real attraction between them, and they both know that. But maybe they're both lonely and desperate enough that that doesn't matter.

His mind turns to the picture of Jenny as Jackie's tongue pushes its way into his mouth. He knows Jackie still loves her, still misses her - of course he does, he's never stopped - and he wonders how it must feel, bringing in other people to fuck when you've still got your heart dead set on someone else. It’s been a few years, he knows, but the pain never seems to have lessened for the guy. Still. He's had other girls in here before, and then some.

Maybe it helps. Maybe this, what they're doing now, helps. A part of him wonders if that's part of why Jackie wants him around, but no that doesn't make any sense. There's never been anything between them, they'd never _wanted_ anything between them. (Except for that night last year, but that doesn't count, he's sure it doesn't).

Jackie's hands move to Johnny's jeans and work to unzip it. He can feel his stomach twisting in on itself as Jackie's fingers slide into the waistband of his boxers. "Fuck, okay," Johnny breathes, and he pulls away long enough to slip out of his clothes. When he sits back down, Jackie slides off the edge of the bed to kneel in front of him.

His breath hitches as Jackie wraps one hand around his dick. He can't help but think again of last year, the first and only other time Jackie's done this for him. Except it's different this time, it's so different, and it's great and terrifying and he's half expecting the Darkness to come out and rear its heads or at least snake its way into _his_ head again, but -

He's not expecting it when Jackie closes his mouth over the head of his dick. Johnny's fists twist in the bedsheets as Jackie moves his head down, taking in nearly the whole length of him. Johnny bites back on a moan as Jackie moves his mouth back and forth, his tongue dragging across the hot skin.

It's embarrassing how quickly the pressure builds up, and he's so certain he's going to release himself in his damn boss's mouth. But Jackie removes his mouth with a wet POP and stands up. “One moment.”

It’s agonizing to keep from touching himself to finish off the buildup of pressure, but he can’t bring himself to, not when Jackie’s right there and about to fuck him. (Holy shit, he thinks, because he’s both alarmed and amazed that this is _actually happening,_ this can’t be right, he’s got to be dreaming or -)

Jackie’s back in front of him again, an unwrapped condom in his hands. Johnny’s teeth worry at his lips as Jackie rolls the condom over his dick, quickly and expertly. Jackie’s eyes flick up to meet his and he arches one brow. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, sorry, sorry.” It’s all he can do to force himself to stop chewing his lips, but he manages. Jackie holds his gaze for a moment longer before before he moves. "Ah-" Johnny's hands twist harder in the sheets as Jackie lowers himself onto his lap. Jackie moves slowly, carefully, his back arched and his hands moving to Johnny's shoulders. 

"Fuck, okay," Johnny breathes when Jackie settles onto his lap with a wiggle of his hips. His hands leave the sheets, shaking, and he moves them to grip Jackie's waist. He’s never done this before, he’s never goddamn _done_ this before and he’s not sure what to do.

"You alright there?" Jackie asks, his voice breathy and amused as he begins to rock.

"Ccchrist, Jackie. Yyyeah, yeah, okay. I’m not..." Johnny starts to thrust, and he feels so clumsy, everything feels so weird. Jackie quickens his pace to keep up with the rhythm and Johnny wonders if he can feel how he’s trembling. “Sorry,” he gasps, “I’m not exactly - this isn’t something I -”

Jackie smooths his hands over Johnny's chest and over his arms, thumbs lightly caressing the scars. “Don’t worry about it, you’re doing fine,” he assures him. “Lean back a little, that’ll give you some better leverage.”

Johnny follows his advice and leans back on one elbow, keeping one hand on Jackie’s waist. It feels wrong, he thinks as Jackie meets his mouth with his own. It feels wrong, how gentle this all is. He's being careful, Jackie's making an _effort_ to be careful, he can tell. First through everything before this, when they were talking, and now _this._

Maybe it's the scars, maybe it's guilt, maybe it's the shaking and the stuttering and the overall decline in his mental health. Maybe Jackie's afraid he'll make it worse. A frustrated hiss escapes his throat as he thrusts harder, speeding up, wanting more, wanting it to _hurt_ -

God, he thinks as his whole body tenses. He's so fucked up.

He lets out a small cry as he releases, a wave of pleasure (wrong, wrong, it shouldn't feel so good) coursing through every inch of his being. Jackie keeps moving and Johnny tries to keep pace with him, but there's a haze in his mind and ohhh fuck, there it is, he can hear it starting up. The laughter -

Jackie's mouth closes on his again and Johnny whines, and he tries to ignore the voice bubbling up in his mind. His fingers flex and press in hard against Jackie's hips. He can feel Jackie's hands circling around to his back, his hands sliding up to rest just under his shoulder blades. 

"Jackie," he whimpers (and he is whimpering because he's pathetic, he's pathetic and he feels bad for enjoying this) and Jackie slides his tongue into Johnny's mouth. He can feel himself building back up again, so soon, and he's delighted and ashamed all at once. There's a pressure in his head and he it's getting harder to ignore. 

Then the tongue slides back out of his mouth and their faces are apart again, giving Johnny time to catch his breath. "Slow down," Jackie says, and he does. "Stop moving."

Jackie's hands move again, this time settling on Johnny's ass. Johnny leans back on both elbows, fingers flexing into his palms as Jackie picks up his rhythm and he moves to shift his angle a bit.

Johnny does his best to ignore the laughter still slipping through his mind as Jackie fucks himself on him. He looks gorgeous, all lean muscle and dark hair and glistening skin, and he's jealous. He looks so good, he always has; meanwhile, everything about Johnny's life has been steadily circling down the drain. 

A shudder passes through Jackie's body as his orgasm releases. Johnny's not far after, and this time, the laughter in his head finally fades with his energy. Jackie's movements slow and then he's lifting himself up.

Johnny lets himself fall backwards onto the bed, his nerves tingling and his hands shaking. He wants to curl up and close his eyes, maybe keep them closed for the rest of forever. He can feel Jackie roll the condom up off of him and he can hear he move to toss it away.

The bed shifts as Jackie sits down on the bed beside him. Johnny passes a hand over his face, letting his knuckles dig firmly into his eyelids. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

He takes a deep breath and holds it for about three seconds before letting it back out. "Jenny," he says eventually, breaking the silence. "For what happened to her, for... This. This shouldn't be..."

"Stop it." There’s a sudden edge to his voice and Johnny flinches. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

"What we did here," Jackie cuts in, "isn't some sort of replacement for Jenny. It's nothing to be sorry for."

He doesn't reply, because he's not sure what to say. Instead, Johnny opens his eyes again and sits up, slowly, acutely aware of the way he's trembling.

There's a slight buzz in his head, and he expects that voice to come back at any time, but it doesn't. Jackie's got his eyes on him, and this time Johnny swears he sees a flash of yellow in them.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die in his throat and he looks away. He hunches and hugs himself, hands rubbing over the scars on his arms. They're raised just slightly above the skin and the texture is comforting, even if the scars themselves are not.

"I should go," he says finally, gaze firmly resting on his knee.

"You might as well stay," Jackie says, leaning back against the fancy headboard. "It's pretty damn early."

"I..." He shouldn't, he doesn't want to. The more he's around Jackie and the thing _inside_ him, the worse he gets.

But he can't say no. He can't bring himself to, and he doesn't know why. (Except he does, it's because he deserves this anyway doesn't he, he's so pathetic and gross so why not -)

Jackie must have seen the conflict on his face because he says, "You don't have to."

Johnny slips off the bed without a word. It takes him just a moment to pull his boxers and jeans back on, then he ducks into Jackie's elaborate bathroom. 

His hands are still shaking as he washes them under near-scalding water. He leans on the counter, staring hard at his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks are still flushed, but the rest of him is pale. He looks so haggard, so tired. His cheeks look so hollow, the skin on his face taut and always covered in open sores because sometimes he gets to _picking_ it and he can’t stop.

The circles under his eyes are darker than ever and he wonders if they'll ever lighten. He'd never had that much hair to begin with once it started thinning at age 19, but there's even less of it now. With a scowl, he runs his hand across his receding hairline, letting his nails scrape over his scalp.

What would his parents think if they could see him now?

After turning the tap to let the water run cold, Johnny splashes himself in the face with it. Some of it runs into his eyes and burns, but that's fine. They were starting to burn anyway. This is a good way to mask the tears threatening to build.

Jackie's still lounging on the bed when he steps out. He pauses, feeling like he should say something, but he's not sure what. Instead, he quietly heads for the door. Before he reaches for the handle, Jackie says, "Hey."

He takes a deep breath to steady himself before he turns around. "Yyyeah?"

Jackie gestures at the table across from the bed. "Do me a favor and set the picture upright."

A pause. "Sure, Jackie." He steps over to the little table and reaches for the overturned picture frame. He picks it up and Jenny's smiling face stares at him. She's pretty, he thinks as he sets the frame down gently. She'd always been nice to him, the few times they'd crossed paths. Damn shame what happened to her.

"Thanks," Jackie says. "Try to get some more sleep, Johnny."

His mouth is dry and he has to wet his lips before he can speak. "Yeah. Thanks. ...You too, Jackie."

He's half expecting that voice to slither back into his head as he leaves, but it's blissfully silent.

It's just past 2:30 am by the time he crawls back into bed. Dolfo's still asleep, curled up on his side with his back to Johnny.

His nerves are still tingling and he's not so sure he wants to sleep, but he doesn't want to stay awake, either. After a moment's hesitation, he rolls over to his side and wiggles his way over until his back is pressed lightly against Dolfo's. 

The contact is nice and after a few minutes, his body settles down some. He closes his eyes and tries to empty his mind, but it's difficult. He can feel Dolfo’s steady breathing through his back and he tries to focus on that instead, forcing his own breathing to match the rhythm.

Eventually, he manages to drift off. There aren’t any nightmares this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Consider leaving a comment letting me know your thoughts; I'd love to read them!


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